


The End Justifies the Means

by VampireNaomi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireNaomi/pseuds/VampireNaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Austro-Prussian War. Romano and Prussia grow frustrated as they wait for the Austrians to attack and decide to have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Justifies the Means

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this story on the Hetalia kink meme.

“Bastard, leave my brother alone!”

Romano marched through the entrance to the tent and let the door flap back into place behind him. He could feel his own heartbeat in his ears, or maybe it was that of his people who were anxiously waiting for the next battle. His hands were shaking with nearly uncontrollable desire to hit something, preferably the face of the asshole who had turned to stare upon him entering.

“What now?” 

Despite the anger that was still bubbling inside him, Romano couldn't help but want to take an instinctive step back as Prussia's eyes bore into him. He couldn't stand him, but it was only partly because the other was so full of himself, so loud and had brought such disgusting rations and even more disgusting soldiers with him. Another reason was that the pale, aggressive kingdom intimidated him, and he hated being scared by people he despised.

“I... uh...” he stuttered, trying to recall the words that had been crystal clear on his mind when he had stormed through the camp towards Prussia's tent.

Prussia straightened his form and leaned against the table on which several maps of the area were displayed. “Well? Is this actually important or are you just here to waste my time like all the rest of you?”

“S-shut up! And stop bugging Veneziano! He's a total loser and crybaby most of the time anyway, so I don't need you making him bawl even more!”

“Is this about today's training? All I've been doing is trying to whip you two into shape so that you won't wet your pants the moment Austria's troops show their ugly faces!”

“Fuck you,” Romano growled, the anger growing stronger than his nervousness. “Our men are just fine!”

“Not by my standards!”

“Nobody asked you to come here and spread your goddamn standards around!”

“That's because I don't need a permission if I want to do something. And since we're allies in this war, I'm going to inspect your troops if I feel like it. I'm not going to let you or your brother fail and make a fool of me.”

“You didn't have to make him cry!”

Prussia chortled. “I just made him run a few laps and whacked him on the back of his head when he couldn't load his musket fast enough. He's really cute, yeah, but when it comes to war, I don't make exceptions for anyone. Do you think I would have become the best kingdom in the world otherwise?”

“It hasn't been even a hundred years since France walked all over you, so shut up.”

The smirk on Prussia's face turned downwards, and Romano figured that maybe he shouldn't be here, trying to provoke him when they were alone in this tent. A strategy meeting had just ended, so all of the officers had left to prepare their men for the battle. That Veneziano had been crying all day wasn't a reason to get Prussia angry at him.

But truth to be told, he wasn't here entirely because of his brother. They had been on their guard and expecting to run into the Austrian troops for a few days now. Everyone was on the edge, and the men were restless. Fights had broken out even though they were now even more severely punished than usual. Romano could feel all the men's frustration flowing through his veins, thick like mud. He couldn't sleep, he had no appetite and couldn't bring himself to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. As much as he hated war and would have rather retreated to his little house back home in Roggiano Gravina and never come out again, right now he was itching for a fight.

“Yeah, well we beat his ass in Waterloo, so look who's stronger!”

Romano rolled his eyes and approached the table against his better judgement. “Doesn't change the fact that he mopped the floor with you before that.”

“Even the best has to lose sometimes or otherwise my awesomeness wouldn't shine so bright! What matters is who's standing in the end. And I'm going to be standing in the end of this war, so you and your brother had better man up, especially if you want to make something out of that kingdom you just founded.”

“You have no right to tell us what to do!” Romano was standing right by the table now. He didn't think he had ever been that close to Prussia, partly because the fucking bastard had immediately latched onto his brother and partly because he had been wise enough to keep his distance until now. 

He didn't know Prussia personally all that well, but he knew Spain. Spain was a good guy at heart, but God, did he have the habit of picking the worst friends in the world. Like France. Romano had no idea how Spain could stand to look at his face after all the bloody history they shared. Not that he should care, he knew. Spain's problems weren't his anymore. Nevertheless, Prussia had something akin to friendship going on with Spain, and that meant he was either an amazing guy or the worst maggot one could imagine. And Romano had long since made up his mind about that.

“This is our fight,” he continued. “I and Veneziano are leading things here. Nobody asked you to come here, so drag your ass back north and take care of your own battles!”

Up close, he could practically see the fury flash in Prussia's eyes, but it wasn't the only detail to catch his attention. A fading scrape ran along his jawline, no doubt a leftover from some fight. He realised only now that the way Prussia was pursing his lips when he was angry made him look like he was pouting, not fitting for the battle-hardened veteran he wanted to present himself as. What made him look even more ridiculous was the smear of ink on his nose.

Damn, he guessed that meant the brute could actually write, or maybe he'd just been doodling whatever crude things he found humorous.

“You know,” Prussia said, “I guess it's admirable that you're looking out for your brother like that. I get that. I've got a kid brother waiting for me at home myself. But you've got to take this whole thing a lot more seriously if you want to beat Austria. He's a total sissy, yeah, but –”

“Don't talk down to me, dammit! I know what's at stake here! This isn't my first war!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you're certainly acting like it! You aren't even wearing a uniform, and you're supposed to be an officer here!”

True enough. Romano's uniform was lying as a crumpled heap next to his blanket which was in a similar state. He didn't like wearing it – it was itchy and hot, and now that it was worn-out and dirty from use, he thought it made him look like crap. Prussia's uniform, by contrast, somehow managed to look almost new even though Romano was pretty sure he hadn't changed it in weeks. The buttons were actually shining.

“I- I don't need my uniform right now! I'll wear it when we go to battle, but not before!”

Prussia slammed his hands on the table. “If you were my subordinate, I'd have had you flogged by now!”

“Well, I'm not, and I'm never going to be, so piss off!”

He could tell that Prussia was angry. He was stiff like an animal ready to attack, and by now there wasn't a trace of the smug smirk left on his face. Romano realised this was probably his last chance to turn around and run without receiving any physical injuries.

But he didn't. He was nearly shaking with his anger and pent-up frustration, and a blow would have been almost welcome because then he would have had every reason to hit him back.

“You know what I think?” Prussia said. Then, without waiting for an answer, “I think you need to give someone a good pounding right about now.”

“I'll do that as soon as those Austrian bastards show up.”

Suddenly, the smirk was back, and Prussia turned his head down as he snorted in amusement.

“No, I meant that you need some stress release. Right now. Look at yourself, you're like a bull that's been tied on a leash right next to a red flag. No self-control whatsoever.” As he spoke, he leaned over the table and caught a hold of the front of Romano's shirt.

“Wha –”

He didn't have the time to finish before Prussia had pulled him closer and silenced him with a kiss – and that was if Romano wanted to be generous and call it that. The rough, nearly violent nibbling on his lips and the tongue that forced his mouth open and a surprised grunt from the back of his throat weren't what he associated with a good kiss. Nevertheless, for a moment he found himself responding to it because something so direct was exactly what he had been craving for the past few days. It sent an excited shiver down his spine, and he swore death on the table between them that stopped them from any further contact with each other.

But then he remembered who it was to play some tongue fencing with him, and he retreated with a disgusted yell and turned to spit to his side.

“What are you doing?” Prussia protested in dismay as Romano kept sputtering and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What the hell are _you_ doing?”

“Trying to help you! It's obvious you need to get laid!”

“No, I don't!” Alright, maybe he did. A little. It was a while since they had last stopped in an inhabited area, and he hadn't managed to charm any farmer's daughters off their feet because Veneziano was so busy doing that, and at least one of them had to look after the men and get some work done. Hell, maybe that was why Veneziano didn't seem at all bothered by the tense atmosphere. He had hogged all the ladies to himself and had no doubt got plenty of stress relief, the selfish bastard.

However, that didn't mean Romano was desperate.

“And even if I do, why would I ever want to do it with you?”

“Because I'm the best!”

“If that pathetic excuse of a kiss was taste of what's coming, no, you're not. And speaking of taste, yours makes me want to vomit. How many rotting teeth do you have?”

“Hey, now!” Prussia put both of his hands on the table and leaned over it in anger. “You don't exactly taste of nectar either, and you smell even worse! But that's how real men are in the battlefield, so unless you're too much of a pansy, get back here!”

Romano knew this was nothing more than a trick to get laid. There was nothing between them – and he very much preferred it that way. He wasn't like his stupid brother who gave his heart to Germanic bastards and let them break it and stomp all over the shards. But having sex to just let out some steam didn't involve feelings or commitment, so it wasn't a problem, right?

He knew that a lot of his people would have thrown a fit if they knew that their traditional, Catholic nation was even considering doing this, particularly with a man, but it was so easy to forget that when he let the thumbing of his heart lead him and focused on nothing but the fact that if he didn't find some outlet for his frustration, he'd probably explode.

“H-hell, I guess you'll do,” he said. Better Prussia than having to waste time trying to figure out which of the soldiers were open-minded and horny enough to do something like this. Prussia at least understood why he was doing this and that there was nothing personal in it.

“That's what I'm talking about!”

“But nothing weird, alright?”

Prussia jumped to sit on the table and swung his legs back and forth as he flashed him a grin. “Like what?”

Romano didn't want to start imagining all the disgusting things that nations like Prussia no doubt liked to do, so he strode back to the table. Now that he had had a moment to cool off, he was no longer trembling with anger, but there was enough fire left to not brush this off as a very bad idea.

“Just to make one thing clear. I don't like you. At all,” he said.

“No problem. I don't really like you either. But you've got an itch and I've got an itch, so that's that.”

Romano paused. “You feel it, too? Why? There are barely any of your men here, so it shouldn't affect you.”

“Who said anything about my men?” Prussia asked, reaching out to grab the front of Romano's shirt with both hands so that he could pull him close again. “The frustration is all my own. I can't wait for the Austrians to show up so that I can kick their ass!”

Right, Romano had forgotten that he was dealing with a war-loving psycho. He suppressed the desire to retort something along those lines and leaned in to kiss Prussia so that he'd stop stalking shit and do something useful with his mouth.

He had to hold back a groan at the forceful touch of Prussia's lips. This kind of kissing wasn't what he was used to, but he realised that right now he preferred it. He wanted, needed, something rough to get his built-up emotions out of his system, and the gentle caresses he normally used to make his lovers melt wouldn't have worked. He raised his hands up to tug at Prussia's hair and pushed his knees apart to get more space between his legs.

Prussia's hands slipped inside his shirt, and Romano arched tighter against him as his fingers dug into his skin and explored his back. He wanted to do the same, but there was no getting more of Prussia's skin for as long as he was wearing that wretched uniform of his.

“Fucking buttons,” he muttered as he fumbled with them and couldn't get them open.

“If you tear even one out, I'm going to flog you before the men.”

“And you say Austria is prissy!”

“This is a uniform! And who gives a shit about my chest? Go straight into my pants!”

“I'll do whatever the hell I want!”

Finally, Romano managed to get a few of the buttons undone and could shove his hands under Prussia's shirt. He received a satisfied hiss as his fingers brushed against a healing scar, and he nearly jumped back in surprise, almost apologizing before he realised that Prussia was leaning into the touch.

Right, he thought. This wasn't supposed to be tender. Prussia wasn't his lover. He had no reason to treat him well.

“I got that in the last battle. Some sissy Bavarian thought he could get me.” Prussia moved his hands lower down Romano's back, making his breath get caught in his throat. “Do you even have any scars, or are you only good at running away from the enemy?”

“Fuck you. I'm not crazy like you. I know how to watch my back.”

“In my circles, we call that bein a cowar – mhh-nhhh!”

The amusement in Prussia's voice was grating on Romano's nerves, so he silenced him with his lips and pressed his fingers against the injury, not caring that it had to hurt. Prussia responded by shifting on the table so that he was closer to the edge. The moment they were able to really grind against each other told Romano several things. First, even if there were still clothes separating them, it felt damn amazing. Second, it was clear they were both pretty deprived because they were already growing hard.

They should probably get to the point, he figured. Anyone could walk into the tent at any time, and while they probably wouldn't get into trouble since there was nobody at the camp who outranked them, Romano didn't really want to spend the rest of the war getting disapproving looks from his men.

He began to tug at the waist of Prussia's trousers (more goddamn buttons!) until the other got tired of it and helped himself out of the garment, tossing them on the floor. Apparently, having to take pristine care of his uniform didn't extend to the trousers, or maybe he was just that horny. Romano tried not to stare at Prussia's erection as he undressed himself, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I bet you've never seen anyone this big before!” Prussia announced.

“A thousand times!”

“Alright, then I guess I don't need to ask if this is your first time at this. Get on with it! I want to inspect the troops before it gets dark. Forward, march!”

“Yeah, yeah, you don't have to be such an ass about it.”

Now that they were no longer restricted by clothing, it was an entirely different feeling to grind their bodies against one another. Romano shuddered at the heat that tore through him as their erections touched and Prussia reached out to rub them together. He buried his face against Prussia's neck and tried not to groan because he needed more, more, more, but he didn't want to come off as a desperate mess.

He wrinkled his nose at a tickling sensation on his cheek, at first assuming that it was Prussia's hair. But then he opened his eyes and did not like what he saw.

“Oh, my fucking God, you have fleas.”

“No, I don't!”

“Right, so what's this?” Romano dug a hand into Prussia's hair and fished out a tiny insect, identical to the one that had hopped onto his cheek.

“That's not mine! That's Gilbird's!”

“Bullshit!”

“Well, so what if I have a flea or two? I'm here to fight a war, not groom my hair! And everyone has fleas, including you!”

“The fuck I do!”

“Oh, yeah, you do!”

Much to Romano's disappointment, Prussia removed his hands from between them and began to rummage around in his hair in an attempt to prove his point. Thankfully he did brush a few times against the sensitive curl, but compared to what he had been doing earlier, it couldn't hold a candle to it.

“Aha! Here, look! You've got fleas, too!”

“Of course I do because I got them all from you just now!”

Prussia grinned and flicked the flea aside. “Stop complaining. At least I don't have lice. Anymore. I got rid of them. I think.”

Romano's eyes darted down in panic, and he began a frantic search with his fingers. However, he was quickly interrupted when Prussia grabbed his hands and moved them aside so that they were holding their erections together. It was a gesture that might have registered with Romano as sweet if it hadn't been for the fact that it was done by a bastard who would no doubt give him every single disease known in Europe and maybe some new ones that Prussia had developed on his own.

“Enough fooling around,” Prussia said, “I'm not going to be late to the inspection, so let's do it.” To emphasize his words, he opened his legs as wide as they would go, leaned back on his elbows and shot Romano an expectant look.

Wait a minute...

Romeno froze when he suddenly realised that Prussia was expecting him to be the one to do the penetrating. All this time, he had assumed that it would be the other way around because Prussia was such a egocentric push-over, and somehow Romano had thought he was the kind of guy who saw it as a weakness to take it from someone else.

But even more than than that, he was taken aback by the fact that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. The reality of things was that while he had no problem getting hot and sweaty with men, he preferred to do it with women. They were soft, round, smelled better and felt good to the touch. When it came to women, he knew exactly how to take them to heaven and back, but his experiences with men were far more limited, and so far he had never been the one in charge, so to speak.

He wasn't sure if he wanted Prussia to be his first in that regard. He would just laugh at him if he made a mistake and give him condescending orders all the way through. But he couldn't just admit that he wasn't an expert at this, right? Then Prussia certainly would laugh.

“Hey, what's the matter?” Prussia asked.

“Nothing! I'm just... evaluating the situation.”

“What's there to evaluate? This isn't exactly aviation, you know.”

“Yeah, it's just that...” Romano thought back to the lazy afternoons with Spain and all the things he had taught him to enjoy. Spain had been gentle, patient and slow, taking care to move at a pace that was comfortable to Romano and showing him everything that two men could do to each other. If he just took inspiration from that, he'd be fine, right?

Romano made a vague gesture with his hands. “Don't you have something... you know, oil or stuff?”

Prussia was silent for a few moments, but then he burst out laughing. “Do you think I'd bring some sissy lotion to a battlefield? If that's what you want, you're on the wrong side of this war. Go talk to Austria!”

“Then what –” Romano asked, embarrassment and anger beginning to burn his cheeks.

“Just spit into your hand. I can take it, and I don't mind a little pain.”

Romano guessed the confusion must not have left his face because Prussia's next move was lifting his brows.

“Wait, you have done this before, right?”

“Of course I have! Just not with someone like you!”

Well, that was true in a way since Prussia wasn't a woman.

He could still feel his frustration flowing in his veins and imagined what it would feel like to thrust into that pale body and wipe Prussia's arrogant smirk off his face. He'd show him that he was just as much a nation and not someone he could just laugh at. After this, Prussia would never again treat him like he was nothing.

“Alright then, bastard. Here we go,” he said and spat onto his fingers. He grabbed a hold of Prussia's ankle and lifted it up on his shoulder to get better access and tried to remember how Spain had done this with him. Just one finger first if he recalled right. That should be easy enough and –

Wait, wait, no! He couldn't put his fingers there! He still needed them for eating!

With a shiver of disgust, he pulled his hand back just in time to save himself the trouble of having to chop it off.

“What now?” Prussia snarled in exasperation.

“I'm not putting my fingers into you!”

“Why not? How's this any different from the other guys you've done?”

“Because... because you're a Germanic bastard nation and you eat disgusting things, so if I put my fingers down there, they'll probably rot off right away!”

“That's the stupidest garbage I've ever heard! I had no idea you were such a princess! Are you sure it wasn't you who was raised by Austria and not your brother?”

“Shut it!”

“Make me! Or do I have to go and get someone else to do this since you obviously can't? Your brother maybe?”

All the anger that had originally made Romano come to this wretched tent suddenly flared up. Veneziano had already had his heart broken by one of these stupid, northern nations. Romano would give pure hell to every single one of them who had the nerve to go gold-digging around his brother, even if it was the last thing he did.

“You keep your hands off him!”

“Oh, yeah? Make me – eeeee, ow, ow, ow!”

Prussia nearly jumped off the table when Romano pushed his finger in knuckle-deep without a warning. His ankle slipped off Romano's shoulder and he had to grab the edges of the table to keep himself steady so that he wouldn't fall. His face twisted in fury.

“Some fucking notice next time!”

“You said you can take it! And besides... uh...” Romano trailed off, distracted by the weird sensation of a person around his finger. Unlike part of him had feared, his skin wasn't peeling off, so he decided that he could take it. He wiggled around a little, just to see what would happen.

“You have no clue what you're doing,” Prussia said.

“What would you know of the Italian way?”

“Based on this? That it sucks. But who cares? We're doing this to get some exercise, so move on.”

“Impatient bastard.”

Romano spent another moment playing with his finger, but he had to admit that Prussia had a point. He knew this could feel really good and that there was a spot he was supposed to hit, but based on the irritated frown on Prussia's face, he hadn't found it. Maybe if he added a second finger.

He gritted his teeth when his action resulted in no other reaction but Prussia shifting into a more comfortable position on the table. He was starting to suffer from stage fright, he realised. He was bound to get something wrong when he was doing this for the first time, and he didn't want Prussia to be the one to judge his performance.

Maybe if he let into his anger, Prussia would think he was being bad on purpose. 

“Alright, enough!” he declared and pulled his fingers out.

“Finally! I was starting to think you lost something in there!”

Romano spat into his hand once more and smeared it around his member to get at least some lubrication to ease the way. It couldn't be enough, he figured, but if Prussia wanted it that way, that wasn't his problem.

The next thing he discovered was that entering a man wasn't like entering a woman. There was more resistance even after the stretching he had done, and even when he grabbed the edge of the table for leverage, he had some trouble doing it. The friction burned and wasn't an altogether pleasant sensation, making him mentally cuss out Prussia for not bothering with lotion if he had plans to fuck on the battlefield.

Prussia glared at him in annoyance and confusion. “You aren't even half-way in yet! What's taking so long? Or do you want to make this slow and nice? Because we don't really have the time for that.”

“I, uh... I just don't want to hurt you!” Romano blurted out, too embarrassed to admit that he wasn't in control of the situation.

“That's real sweet, but if I was after that, I would have gone to France.”

Romano pulled out and put his hands on Prussia's knees, ready to give it another try. It couldn't be that fucking difficult. Dick into ass. Nothing more. Like Prussia had said, it wasn't aviation that they were practising. He would thrust again, with more force this time, and make Prussia see stars.

Too bad Prussia had a plan of his own. Just as Romano was about to enter him again, he jolted his hips forward to meet his thrust. In an ideal world, that would have resulted in Romano pushing in and hitting his prostate so that they both would have got something out of it. In reality, the move surprised Romano so that right when he was doing such good process thrusting in, he stumbled backwards and pulled Prussia along, making him fall off the table and sending them both to the floor.

Romano landed on his ass with Prussia in his arms. The force of the fall had two side effects. The fortunate one was that now he was definitely as deep inside Prussia as was humanly possible. The unfortunate one was that it had to hurt like hell, at least judging by the surprised yell and the way he was now gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.

It hadn't been pleasant for Romano either, but he could ignore how his coccyx was feeling like it had just been shattered because his erection was now surrounded by warm tightness that made him want to curl his toes. The only reason that he hadn't yet begun moving to get more of it was that Prussia was still taking in gulps of breath, every muscle in his body stiff.

“You alright?” 

Prussia let out a strained hum that Romano was sure was meant as a yes. He decided to take it as a no. There was no need to be cruel. As he waited for Prussia to adjust and relax, he began to fondle his length to take his mind off everything else. This at least was something he had done before, he mused as he felt Prussia shudder in his arms when his fingers moved down to grab his scrotum.

“You can get off me,” he decided. They could do something else. His first time with Spain had been like that, with no penetration. It was just as good and intimate, and maybe they should have done that to begin with since their circumstances weren't all that ideal for what they had attempted to do.

Prussia shifted, and Romano was sure he'd do what he had suggested. Part of him wished that he wouldn't because that small movement alone was making heat pool somewhere below his stomach and he wanted more of that, but even if he thought Prussia was utterly unpleasant (and that was putting it mildly), he didn't want him to be in excruciating pain while they had sex. That would certainly taint his opinion of Italians as lovers.

But Prussia didn't get up, only rearranged himself into a more comfortable position. He straightened his back so that he was no longer hiding his face in the crook of Romano's neck and kissed him, making him want to whine in disappointment when he pulled away just as suddenly.

“Damn, that hurt. I had no idea you were so jumpy,” he said.

“We don't have to keep going,” Romano replied, trying to ignore how his dick was begging him to keep this up while every sympathetic part of him wanted to call it quits. 

“I'm not stopping now! And I'm fine. I like it rough.”

“But what if you're bleeding?”

“Aww, will you be this concerned about me if an Austrian puts a musket ball into me when we face them? Because I bet I'm going to bleed a lot more in a few days.”

“Unlike you, I actually give a shit about the people I sleep with, even if they're like you and even if it's just one time.” Romano found that he hated the sudden turn their escapade had taken. Things were suddenly too close for comfort, and he wished he could return to the anger that had made his blood boil only moments ago. 

Unfortunately, falling off the table had effectively ruined the mood, and he couldn't bring himself to be furious anymore. He imagined what would happen if someone walked in now and saw them and how he had his dick up Prussia's ass but was suddenly too shy to look him in the eyes. As much as the thought horrified him, he couldn't help but want to laugh at the expression on the face of any poor soul who might find them.

“What's wrong?” Prussia asked as Romano unsuccessfully tried to stifle a chortle and lowered his head.

“This is the worse sex I've had in decades.”

“And whose fault is that?” 

“Yours because that's your table.”

“Yeah, well it's going to get real good really soon. You can't really do anything to me while we're like this, so maybe I'll just ride you.”

“You'll wha –” Romano started, but then Prussia lifted himself up, only to come back down and make Romano unable to finish his words because he was too busy moaning in surprise and pleasure. He had never done it like this before. Most of the women he had made love to were shy, traditional kind of girls who didn't want to dominate a man, and somehow he had thought that when it was two men, the one doing the penetrating would call the shots. It had just felt natural.

He saw Prussia wince when he landed on him and slid his length back into him, but Romano was beyond the point of caring. Prussia could take care of himself and knew his limits, so if he didn't want to stop, that was his problem. Nevertheless, since he only needed one arm to balance his back off the floor, he returned the other one to Prussia's member because he didn't want to just sit still and let him do all the work.

His actions were rewarded with a groan, or maybe Prussia had been able to struck the spot inside him that Romano had been unable to find. Either way, seeing his face contort in something that wasn't pain encouraged him, and he pressed harder at the member in his hand, moving his fingers up and down.

By now, his breath was coming out in pants, and he found himself trying to respond to Prussia's movements as he rode his length. The friction was almost too much, and he if it wasn't for the fact that this wasn't with someone he cared about, he would have regretted the lack of lotion. But, as he kept telling himself whenever the pleasure allowed him a straight thought, this was all about physical satisfaction, nothing else.

He swallowed thickly and leaned his head back. “S-slow down... nnhh... I can't...”

Surprisingly, Prussia did just what he had been told. He stopped, leaving the two of them sticky with sweat and panting as their bodies trembled with the need to continue. Prussia reached out to grab Romano's face and leaned closer to plant a hungry kiss on his lips. Romano responded to it until Prussia moved down to his throat and lathered his skin with kisses and small nibbles. 

Romano shifted at the sensation of Prussia's tongue tracing his skin. Somehow, this felt too personal to him. It was something that he would have expected a lover to do, and he didn't really want to think of Prussia in those terms.

“Start moving again,” he commanded and tried to grind his hips against Prussia's so that he'd stop all the wonderful things he was now doing to his nipple with his teeth.

“Haha, impatient, aren't we? No wonder. I guess I'm just that damn good,” Prussia said with a grin, and Romano was relieved that he hadn't figured out the real reason behind his eagerness to continue.

The rest of it was almost mechanical. They spoke no more, so Romano was able to concentrate on nothing but the physical side of it, the nearly painful burning friction of Prussia sliding up and down his length, and the gasps and moans that filled the tent. It crossed his mind that by now, someone must have realised what they were doing, but as the pleasure grew more and more intense and brought him closer to the edge, such notions quickly became irrelevant.

He groaned as the sensations reached their peak, and for a moment his entire body went stiff. All that stopped him from collapsing on the floor was the fact that Prussia wasn't done yet, so he had a job to do if he didn't want his pride to suffer a terrible blow. With a few more swift motions, he worked Prussia into release and felt something warm shoot into his hand.

For a moment, they lay as a heap on the floor, but as the afterglow began to fade, Romano grew more and more restless. He wriggled until Prussia got the hint and rolled off him, landing on his back and not getting up.

“Shit, my ass is going to kill me tomorrow.”

“Then you had better pray that the Austrians attack tonight so that you can blame the limp on a battle injury.”

Prussia let out a breathless laugh.

Romano sat up and regarded his hand with a disgusted look. He spent a moment looking around to find something he could use to clean it and finally settled for the front of Prussia's uniform jacket.

“Hey! What the hell?”

“Just giving you back what's yours.”

“I have to look spotless when I go inspect the troops! And you can't do that to a uniform! It's sacred! How would you feel if I wiped my ass on a handkerchief right now and tossed it into your pasta pot?”

Romano let out a sickened snort and picked up his pants so that he could get himself dressed and slip out of the tent as soon as possible. He felt more relaxed now than when he had come in, and he no longer even cared about Veneziano's crying fit that much. He would have loved nothing more than curling up in a blanket and getting some sleep, but he still had things to do, and he wasn't going to stay in the tent any longer than was necessary.

Prussia, on the other hand, wasn't in a hurry to do anything. He crossed his hands behind his head and regarded Romano's frantic attempts to put on his clothes with an amused smirk.

“I have some five minutes before I have to go see my men. You can still lie down and enjoy this moment with me,” he said.

“I thought we both already got what we wanted out of this.”

“There's always room for more.”

“I think I've had enough.”

“For now!” Prussia announced as Romano pushed aside the door and stepped outside. 

His legs felt a little wobbly as he marched through the camp to get away from the area where the Prussian soldiers were staying. He didn't go back to where his brother was, though, because he was sure that the smell of sex was too strong on him, and he didn't want Veneziano to figure out what he had done.

That whole incident probably hadn't been the wisest thing he had done in his life, but at least it had got rid of the constant buzz of frustration that had tormented him for the past few days. Now the Austrians just had to make their move fast so that the unwanted emotions wouldn't have the time to get bottled up again.

If it happens again, I'll pick someone else, he thought resentfully and bent down to wipe the remains of Prussia's semen on a patch of grass that hadn't been trampled by the soldiers. Disgusting. To think that he had sunk so low just to get some stress relief. Had it even been worth it?

But then he imagined the look on Prussia's face as he'd have to ride his horse all through the following day and decided that, yes, it had been.


End file.
